Page 49 of Room Twenty-Three: Tangled & Teased

Home.

If anything, this time away from my parents has made me realize my home is not with them. I want it to be with the three guys who I’m falling in love with, but if I can’t have them, I’m going to return to Australia to live.

I sigh.

My eyes flash to the road sign as Marco turns the car into the next street. I stare at the sign and say, “You took the wrong turn.”

“It’s a different way home,” he says.

I’ve flown into Heathrow Airport enough times to know the directions back to London. “This direction is southbound, not eastbound.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he growls.

Our gazes clash in his rearview mirror. A terrible shiver runs down my spine as blood thrashes in my veins. “What’s happening, Marco?”

“Just keep quiet for a while. I’m still too angry to speak to you.”

“What did I do wrong?” I ask. I slip my hand in my pocket, trying to hold my cell as I press my finger over the Home button to unlock my phone.

“I was supposed to look after you. You weren’t supposed to be taken from me.”

“What are you talking about, Marco?”

“You keep leaving me, Erin. You went to Australia, then you went to New Orleans.”

“Marco...”

“I told him I would keep you safe.” He inches forward in his seat, his eyes still looking at me in the rear-view mirror but raking over me. “But... You never saw me. I watched you every fucking day. Waiting for you to notice me.”

I swallow.

“I had your cousin killed. It was the only way.” He gloats. “Your father was supposed to panic and send you away with me, not get you personal bodyguards. He would never do that before.”

Lydia died because of me.

Tears sting my eyes. I blink furiously as they flood my cheeks, and I can taste the salty drops on my lips.

My eyes dart open to clash with cold, pale-blue eyes that stare back from the rear-view mirror. “You bastard!”

“I did what I had to do.” He turns his head, his eyes look ahead at the road before glancing once more at me. “I’m your bodyguard.”

“You’re my father’s bodyguard, not mine. My father heard there was a threat to my life, but it was you all along.” I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment before shaking my head.

It’s impossible.

How could he?

Why would he?

“You’re mine,” he growls.

“Fuck you,” I bite out, my voice sounding harsher than it has in my whole life.

His left eye twitches, but he doesn’t respond with anger or retaliation but with, “You will.”

He takes his gun and places it on the dashboard as he looks at me and smirks.

My blood runs as cold as the shudder down my spine. I want to scream, but there’s no point. And I’m too paralyzed by the sight of his pistol, the silent warning he just gave.

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